


Sleep Easy

by distresseddeernoises, literallypatroclus (distresseddeernoises)



Series: The Harku Legacy [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Chapter Related, Chapter XI spoilers, F/M, KotFE spoilers, Self indulgant reunion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distresseddeernoises/pseuds/distresseddeernoises, https://archiveofourown.org/users/distresseddeernoises/pseuds/literallypatroclus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Any last words?"<br/>"Can that garbage. And -- I love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Easy

**Author's Note:**

> ~2000 words of Self indulgent fic about Mir finally getting her husband back, because it made me cry. Some of it is a little glazed over because I feel like a lot of the fighting would be a blur in the face of things, and I didn't include the fight afterwards because I wanted to keep the fluff. I also kept the fade to black because I'm not comfortable though to write the level of sex that would be needed to keep up the life affirming sappiness, instead of making it cliche. 
> 
> Seriously though. It made me so happy to get Aric back and to have the chance to continue their relationship, even if it ended things with Theron. Ultimately, I have people who will end up with Theron. Mir isn't one. She's so in love with her grumpy Cathar life mate. 
> 
> Posted from my phone so I have no formatting or anything! Someone please teach me how to line break from my phone?
> 
> Up next, Rei'da's reaction to her husband's letter. And maybe Ariah meeting torian.

“Havoc squad--”

For a moment, Mirrah’kai’s focus is lost. The commander, the head of the alliance is gone at the mention of her former group, her family. She's found some of them already, of course; Yuun is somewhere on base, after all, working with the Hutt doctor on some recent science project, and the last time she saw Vik, he was offering her cover fire as she attempted to save Asylum from Zakuul’s forces. 

But they weren't Havoc Squad anymore. They were scattered pieces of some long passed puzzle, sometimes fitting together, other times bent beyond repair. Her ship sat in the hanger, empty of everything but its memories -- she'd been unable to step foot on it, since she read Jorgan's letter. When asked, she claimed it was too recognizable, which wasn't a lie, but she couldn't bring herself to walk through the halls and see the ghosts of who she used to be, before the emperor got into her head, when the biggest worry they had was taking out traitors. She didn't want to step into it and feel that emptiness.

She'd known they'd replace her; Havoc Squad was more than her, more than the fighters, more than the faces. It was a name, a legacy, a little bit of hope in a war torn time. Everyone had heard of it, even if the details were fogged over, and she could remember a time when the ensignia brought hope to people's faces as they greeted her, when they turned to her for protection.

Here, people looked to her too, but the alliance was different. Suddenly, her choices made more of a difference then whether or not someone was imprisoned or executed. She was no longer commanding a squad, she was commanding an army, and if she failed, there was nothing left for them but death. The fate of the universe, it weighed heavy on her shoulders, heavier than that ensignia ever had.

Brought back down by the clearing of Theron's throat, she raised an eyebrow. “I'm not entirely certain what you need me for,” she admitted, crossing her arms in a pose that so often mirrored his own -- they'd been spending far too much time together, and there was something in his expression that told her that he might not be telling her everything. In truth, she assumed it was Forex, waiting for her when she touched down, and though Theron explained his reasoning, it was lost to her as memories of her old team came back.

Prep was a bit of a blur; her motions were mechanic, automatic, and she could feel Lana and Theron watching her closely, worried -- they knew her best, after all. The flight out was silent, beyond Theron running details with Koth, and she stayed back, quietly taking it all in.

It never occurred to her that it would be him, until his voice floats into the open air. For a moment, she thinks she's hallucinating, or worse, that she's back in those nightmares, that the emperor is -- but no, it's his voice, and her chest is aching, her heart beating hard enough that --

“Aric, is that you?”

Certainly no one else would've called her “sir” with that amount of disbelief, but she still can't believe her eyes as her husband approaches, wearing different colour, but him just the same. Biting her lip, she, she took a step forward, ignoring Theron completely -- rude, considering there's been a tentative flirtation between the two, but Aric, he was alive, he'd stayed on, and-- 

He was greeting her rather stoically, for someone who had just gotten his wife back. Granted, she didn't blame him. He'd never been great at expressing emotions, but that was part of why she loved him.It was like the dam broke, and she was rushing forward before she'd thought to stop herself. In full view of his entire squad, and her own team, she threw herself at him, arms around his neck. Thankfully, he bent to meet her, strong arms curling around her the best they could, over her armor and gun.

“I'm your wife, not your CO,” she whispered, barely holding back her tears. She could feel him stiffen in her arms, only momentarily, but stars, did it sting. Did it feel like he was hugging a ghost?

“I've been a widower for five years,” he replied, just as quietly, just as rough, and she inhales, shakily. He was right; five years, he thought she was dead. Did be still feel the same? It had never crossed her mind that he might not still love her -- be lost, be dead, maybe, but not love her.

His arms tightened, just a bit, and her worries are relieved. Even as he pulls away, she can't help but smile, teary eyed and ready to talk, to kiss him, to --

Now she understood. The look on Theron's face, the hedging around why it was her who needed to go. He must've known her husband was here. He must've -- well, must've been worried about her reaction. She felt bad, she did. But Aric, he'd been her everything. Her family, her best friend, her husband 

The whistle of the probe caught her attention, and she fell into line for the fight, just like old times -- standing next to Jorgan, hearing him shout out orders, hearing his little growls as the droids got a little too close, it was almost as if they were going against the Empire once more. It was easy, to fall into line and follow his orders, like they were back in Ord Mantell once more.

It was comforting, and as she reloaded, she watched him break everyone into groups. He'd falling into command easily, it was clear -- he'd always belongs there, she knew. She was proud of him, for continuing as he had, despite his loss.

“Come on, we'll provide cover for them,” he explained, turning to her with an expression she'd come to love, and to miss, and she can't help but grin, leaning forward slightly. 

“It's been awhile since I've taken your orders, I might be rusty,” she joked, biting down on her bottom lip to hide a grin, her stomach fluttering when he did the same.

“Just don't let the new blood show you up,” he teased. “We've got a reputation to uphold.”

\--

Fighting next to Jorgan was as easy as breathing, although she keeps glancing to make sure he's still there -- she caught him doing it too, at least. It seemed like neither could quite believe it, but they can't talk about that, really, though he does catch her up on the Republic.

He's just as passionate as she remembers, and she wants to go to him, wants to curl against his chest and cry for lost years and time apart. She can't do that, of course, not now, but at least he's got her back, as she moves to protect the civvies. For a moment she can pretend that they're pushing back against old enemies, that Garza's waiting for their reports, that they'll go back to their ship and their bed and discuss their future.

The camp is comfortable enough, and as the refugees get comfortable, and Aric gives out orders, Mir took a moment to just breathe. Her husband -- he was here, they were together, and of they only got this night, it was a night more than she'd thought they'd be allowed. There'll be no talk about the future tonight, she knows. There's too much of a chance they won't have a future, together or otherwise.

He approached, and she straightened, smiling weakly. He settled down in front of her, and she leant back against the wall, preparing herself.

“When they declared you KIA I tried to fight it. They said I couldn't let go, almost discharged me. Where have you been?”

There it is. There's five years to catch up on, after all, and he deserved an explanation, even though it's not a good one. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. 

“I was locked up; Arcann imprisoned me in carbonite.” 

At least she hadn't left him willingly; the Emperor's children had torn them apart, but she hadn't gone willingly. Still, his expression fell slightly, his response mumbled. “Guess I'm the only one who's had a hard time sleeping, huh?”

She shook her head, hands clenching at her side. “I had these nightmares--” There's no point in mentioning Valkorion, or the carbonite poisoning, not now, but she needs him to know this was painful for her, too. “I saw you dead. I saw everyone dead.”

“Well now you know they were just nightmares.”

His voice is soft, fond, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. He was right, they'd just been nightmares -- the proof if right in front of her, and suddenly she's wondering why she didn't make it clear just how much she missed him earlier.

Wetting her lips, she took a step forward, and was glad to see him stand to meet her. “I guess we'll both sleep better now,” she replied playfully, lifting her face towards him pointedly.

With their weapons set aside, it's much easier for him to curl his arms around her and reply with a cheeky “Eventually,” before their lips press together and she melts against him.

The camp is well guarded, and safe enough, and she feels no inhibitions as he leads her back to his bunk; she just wants to be close to him again. She'd missed him, and now she understood the hole that had been in her chest since she woke.

Hours later, she lifted her head lazily from his chest to look at him. In a couple more hours, they would have to go back to commander and captain, they'd have to figure out their plans and try to make a strike against Zakuul, but for now, they have each other. It's fairly quiet, and she can't help but wonder if the other people in the camp realize the importance of this moment.

“I love you,” she murmured, brushing her fingers absently over his fur. Her hair is down, and his rough fingers are carding through the blond curls; he'd always had an interest in it, she knew, but she never realized how comforting it'd been for her. Smiling, she dragged her nose over her collarbone.

“It's gotten longer,” he replied, as if he hadn't heard, as if he was still making sure she was there. She hummed, stretching to steal a kiss; everything's warm, safe, despite where they are, and she feels sore and lazily and satisfied. Ridiculous, they need to rest, not tired each other out before tomorrow, but if she had to keep her hands off of him -- well, she wouldn't be able to, that's certain.

“Five years will do that.” For a moment, she just looked down at him, rememorizing the lines and scars in his fur, some of which hadn't been there the last time she saw him. “Lana Beniko got me out. Her and Theron, they did all of this. They were looking for you, too -- or, at least, I asked them to. You and Elara. We found Yuun, and Vik, well, he was never going to come back. Stars, Aric -- I missed you. I really did. I'm so sorry you had to wait for me.”

“Hey.” He frowned, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “Cathar mate for life, remember?” It echoes her memories of his proposal, and she can't help but laugh, settling her head back down on his chest. “Aric Jorgan, are you asking me to be your life mate,” she teased, and he laughed, the sound filling her ears as she finally drifted off.

Tomorrow, she'll be the outlander, tomorrow, they'll go to war. But she'll have her husband watching her back, this time, and she couldn't feel safer.


End file.
